


Thinking I'll heal if I just don't move/Then comes that voice saying, "You're a fool"

by allmadeofstardust



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Mighty Nein as Family, Multi, Scar Survey, Scars, Scars tell interesting stories, Short Stories, Vignettes, it's mostly fluff tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:00:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28375836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allmadeofstardust/pseuds/allmadeofstardust
Summary: I got my eye on the scarIt runs clear from your temple to your jawlineYou'll tell me about all your thoughts right this minuteThen I will tell you minea collection of vignettes about the Nein and their scars and how they deal with them.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett & Caleb Widogast, Beauregard Lionett/Yasha, Caduceus Clay & Fjord, Caduceus Clay & Yasha, Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast, Fjord/Jester Lavorre, The Mighty Nein & Essek Thelyss
Comments: 5
Kudos: 141





	Thinking I'll heal if I just don't move/Then comes that voice saying, "You're a fool"

**Author's Note:**

> shout out to tiamat-zx on Tumblr for giving me this lovely idea  
> title from "Antidote" by Paola Bennet  
> lyrics from "Adair" by the Mountain Goats

**i - Beau**

Beau was the only one to notice it.

There had been a massive thunderstorm the previous night, the rain still trickling down in a light drizzle as the morning light crept over the horizon. The Nein were packing up their things as the dome finally dropped, leaving them relatively dry but still eager to find a proper inn and a warm fire. Caduceus took the helm of the cart after whispering thanks to the horses for sticking it out through the downpour, and everyone filed into their usual spots more or less without speaking, too tired and groggy for acute words.

Caleb muttered something about practicing a new spell and settled into the far corner of the cart, pouring over one of his books, and Beau took a seat next to him. It was then, just a few scant minutes into the ride, when Beau noticed it. The wizard was wincing as he turned the pages, voicing soft curses under his breath, and once, when he thought no one was looking, he rubbed vigorously at his forearms, as if trying to push out some sort of poison.

“Hey,” Beau said bluntly, after several minutes of this had passed. “You okay?”

He hesitated for two seconds too long before replying “ _Ja_.”

Beau shook her head.

“Uh-uh. Come on, what’s wrong.” She glanced over her shoulder - nobody else was paying them any heed. “Those assholes from before hurt you? I swear to god I’ll punch their teeth - ”

“ _Nein_ , Beauregard,” Caleb said softly. “The bandits were harmless. I...I am not well because of the storm.”

Beau tilted her head in confusion.

“Sorry?”

Caleb winced again and dug into his arm with his fingernails. The bandages that had been there a few months ago were gone, replaced with long clean sleeves indicative of his growth. But now they rode up a small amount, and Beau could see the scars underneath them. They seemed somewhat inflamed.

“Gods, Caleb, are you - ”

“I am fine,” he insisted, even as he pulled at the sleeves again. “It...it happens, sometimes. When it rains. They...they _hurt_.”

He sounded weaker than he deserved to be, and Beau refused to let him.

“I can get Caduceus,” she offered, already beginning to move towards the firbolg. “He’ll be able to - ”

Caleb’s hand shot out to grab at her coat, and it stopped her. He wore a pained expression on his face.

“ _Bitte_ , Beauregard. If you don’t mind, I would prefer it to stay...between us. I do not want the others to worry.”

Beau scoffed but stayed where she was.

“I doubt I can punch a stormcloud for hurting you, but I can certainly try.”

He smiled, and instinctively moved to push some hair out of his eyes. The movement made him curse a bit louder this time and hug his arms to his chest.

“Alright, that’s it.”

“Beau…”

“You covered for me once, didn’t you?” Beau snapped. “We care about each other, asshole. Anyways, if you can barely use your arms you’re gonna be useless in a fight, and _then_ where would we be?”

It was a harshly pragmatic argument that Beau and Caleb both knew to be a mask for something more genuine. Caleb sighed before eventually nodding. She nodded back, satisfied, then turned to Caduceus.

The cart barely slowed as Fjord took over driving and the firbolg stepped in to tend to Caleb.

“Where does it hurt exactly?” Caduceus asked.

Caleb chewed his lip and grimaced as Caduceus took his arms in his large hands.

“The scars,” he whispered, almost out of shame. “It’s like they’re...swelling up. Digging into me.”

Caduceus nodded and rolled the wizard’s sleeves gently up. The scars were indeed swollen, though only just - without outward mention they would almost look normal. Beau was suddenly glad she’d caught it when she did.

“Nothing a little healing won’t fix,” Caduceus mumbled, wrapping his hands around Caleb’s arms. The wizard closed his eyes and grit his teeth as the firbolg did his work, and after a few moments he stepped back, smiling.

“Better?” he asked.

Slowly, Caleb nodded.

“Good.”

Caduceus returned to the helm of the cart, leaving Beau and Caleb alone.

“Stupid,” he said under his breath.

“I’m sorry?” Beau asked, immediately concerned.

“You should not waste resources and spells on something so pointless.”

Beau scowled at him and punched his shoulder. He yelped and massaged at the bruise.

“What was that for?” he demanded.

“You don’t get to decide who takes care of you or who doesn’t, asshole!” she bit out. “Do I really need to explain to you that - ”

“Beauregard,” Caleb attempted. “This will happen again. Again and again, and if I have to deal with a bit of pain from these things then so be it.”

Beau laughed and shook her head.

“Those _things_ shouldn’t even be on you.”

Caleb gave her a helpless shrug.

“I have learned to deal with them.”

“Then learn to deal with some help, why don’t you?”

Caleb stared at her.

“You certainly are stubborn, Beau, do you know that?”

“Could say the same to you, buddy.”

They lapsed into uncomfortable silence for a minute or two before Caleb cleared his throat.

“They...they are a reminder,” he explained. “A _painful_ reminder, as today shows. But a reminder nonetheless.”

Beau softened at that.

“Well, maybe part of that memory can be of us taking care of you,” she offered, surprised at herself for how heartfelt she was being.

Caleb seemed to be shocked too, as he looked at her curiously before shrugging his shoulders.

“Alright. _Danke_ , Beau.”

He went back to his spellbook, and Beau went back to quiet meditation. Occasionally, she would glance over at him, checking for any hurt. He moved his arms with ease, and she made a mental note to check on him after each storm they passed through from now on.

**ii - Yasha**

It was a funny thing, love. It had a way of making Yasha somewhat light-headed, and distracted. Distracted was _not_ what she needed now. Not when the world could end and there were evil men at their door.

And yet here she was, lying in her bed, wondering if Beau truly meant what she’d said. That she liked her. That things could happen. That she _wanted_ things to happen.

There was a knock on her door, so sudden that Yasha sat bolt upright, knocking her head slightly on the headboard. She rubbed at the bruise as she walked carefully over to the door and pulled it open.

“Hi,” Beau said, looking to anyone else like a woman prepared to flirt and seduce, but something in her eyes made Yasha know better.

“Oh! C - come in, Beau,” Yasha offered, stepping back to let the monk in. Beau smiled gratefully and pushed the door closed, and her whole body seemed to relax slightly. She looked up at Yasha with now almost haunted eyes.

“Hey, Yasha,” she said quietly. “I, um...I came over here with this idea of, like, asking you out again, but then I realized how stupid that was given what’s going on, and I almost just went back to my room but I - I wanted to see you anyway?”

Yasha softened.

“Oh. I - you know you’re welcome over here whenever…”

Beau was gripping the door handle, frozen on the threshold, and Yasha offered her arm.

“Come on. I don’t have any tea like Caduceus but - ”

“It’s fine,” Beau said shortly, taking her arm instantly. Yasha walked her further into the room, thankful for the blessed smell of flowers to calm her nerves. They both settled into opposite chairs, Beau folding her legs underneath her in an attempt to be more comfortable, a nervous tick Yasha knew meant she was anything but.

“Hey,” she began, trying to soothe the awkward tension in the room. “You okay?”

Beau nodded too quickly and sighed.

“It’s just...a _lot_ , y’know? And tomorrow we’re gonna have to get up and deal with it all and I don’t -” She heaved a much needed deep breath. “I don’t know if I can face that on my own, Yasha. And I guess I wanted…”

“Company?” Yasha suggested.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll get us some blankets.” She stood up and headed to the bedroom. She gathered up a few heavy sheets from the foot of her bed. When she returned, Beau was staring into the fire. She’d shucked off her outer layer, and now she hugged herself tightly as the light from the flames reflected off of her upper body. Chiseled abs, strong arms, and a scar, brutally large and ugly, crossing through her chest. It took Yasha’s breath away, and not in a wonderful ‘i’m in love’ kind of way. More like a gasp of sorrow and misery, tinged with regret and topped off with a heavy helping of shame.

“Yasha?” Beau’s voice cut through the fog. “You okay?”

Yasha silently handed Beau the blankets and took a seat in her chair, mimicking Beau as she pulled her legs up close to herself, though it wasn’t in an effort to be comfortable. More as a defense mechanism, a way to distance the memories from clouding her head.

“Beau,” she began quietly, almost a whisper. “I know our situation sucks right now.”

Beau let out a grunt of agreement, looking over Yasha curiously.

“But is it bad that sometimes my demons aren’t the ones outside in fur coats, but...in here?” She tapped her head. “Because I see…”

She gestured to Beau’s chest, which the woman was wrapping with a blanket, covering the scar.

“ - and I can’t help but...get lost.”

Beau leaned forward and wrapped her hand in Yasha’s and squeezed.

“You weren’t yourself.”

“But I let myself get that way.”

Beau shook her head.

“I don’t want you to feel guilty, Yasha. Not _ever_.”

Yasha let show a small smile.

“I get it. You want a new start.”

“ _We_ want a new start,” Beau insisted.

“Yeah. We.”

Yasha looked up at Beau, smile growing.

“I know it’s hard to make a date when we’re - ”

“ - yeah.”

“ - but I want to try and start over too.” She grasped Beau’s hand tightly. “Will you let me do that for you, Beau?”

The monk grinned back.

“Yeah. Situation be damned.”

Their happiness allowed them a soft amount of quiet as the fire continued to burn.

“Yasha?”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t have to feel bad that the things you fight aren’t always physical, you know.”

Yasha sighed and settled further into her chair.

“I know.”

They watched the fire burn lower and lower, together.

**iii - Caduceus**

Caduceus was about ready to settle down for bed when he heard a light tapping behind him. He turned to find Yasha standing there, awkwardly positioned as she leaned casually against the door frame and cradled one of her hands to her chest.

“Yasha,” Caduceus said fondly, stepping over to her. “What can I do for you?”

He kept his eyes on her apparently hurt hand as she smiled shyly.

“I hope I am not bothering you so late,” she murmured. “But Jester was already sound asleep and...well, I figured you wouldn’t panic like she would.”

She extended her hand. The injury wasn’t obvious upon first glance, and Caduceus looked at her, confused.

“It’s nothing new,” she explained. “I was training downstairs and must have overcompensated and, well...they don’t _always_ hurt, but today…”

She moved up her sleeve and Caduceus peered further. Along her wrist, cut finely but deeply into her skin, were several small scars, most of which looked stretched and somewhat irritated.

“Ah, I see.” He closed his eyes and pressed both his palms around them. He felt Melora’s magic seep into Yasha’s skin, and as he opened his eyes again the redness had vanished. The scars, however, remained - a limitation of his powers he had always felt sad about.

“Thank you,” Yasha said, returning her hand to her side. She turned to walk away.

“I didn’t know,” Caduceus called, before she had a chance to fully leave. She stopped and turned back, tilting her head.

“About them, I mean.” He gestured to her wrist. “But I can hazard a guess as to where they’re from.”

Yasha stared at the scarred skin and curled her fingers in the air, balling fists at an invisible foe.

“I don’t like chains,” she said softly.

“I don’t think any of us appreciate being restrained,” he replied. “But I take it that’s not what you mean.”

“When they had me,” she continued. “Me and Jester and Fjord. I tried to protect them. I _meant_ to. But in the end, I was useless to them.” She bit her lip and closed her eyes. “Useless to Molly.”

Caduceus let the sadness of the moment stand in the air, at least until it had its time to settle. Then he reached forward and took both her hands in his.

“You can dwell on the past and its sorrows. I will not stop you - that is life. But I believe what matters in this particular situation isn’t that you couldn’t break free of them _then_ , but that you _did_ break free at all. You broke through so many chains to get here, Yasha, and that is so important.”

He traced the scars with a finger.

“You carry these not as a reminder of failures, but as a memory of a triumph. So when they hurt like tonight, let it fuel that spark in you and watch it become a thunderstorm.”

He let her hands go and stepped back.

“Of course, come to me afterwards. I will always heal you.”

She blinked up at him, and smiled.

“Thanks, Caduceus.”

“Any time.”

She nodded at him, then turned and walked back into the house. Caduceus watched her go, and as she disappeared from view he glanced up at the sky above him. There was a storm brewing in the distance.

**iv - Fjord**

Though the Nein had long since fallen into a sense of rhythm of cleaning up after their meals, Caduceus still insisted on taking care of most of the dishes. Fjord assumed he must enjoy the tediousness of scrubbing food off of glassware, for he always did it with a smile.

Of course, that didn’t mean nobody kept him company - on the contrary, he talked animatedly to everyone else as they roamed around the kitchen, sharing stories and telling jokes.

Tonight, it was just Fjord - everyone else, having been exhausted from getting home from an adventure just that day, had already retired for the evening. Fjord, however, thought it best to stay with the firbolg and give him some companionship, for the day had been long and taxing.

“Say, Caduceus,” he asked, slightly drunk on the wine they’d pulled from the rack in the basement. “You were in excellent form today.”

“Oh?” the firbolg hummed, dipping another dish into the water.

“Yes, you really took care of that one gnoll who…”

He trailed off as he handed the final plate to Caduceus, who was waiting with outstretched hands. Maybe it was because they had been cleaned pristine by the soap and water, but Fjord could see details on them he hadn’t before. The pads of his fingers were abnormally smooth, the grey skin faded. They looked like they were _scars_ , but old ones, from ages ago.

“Fjord?” Caduceus asked. Fjord found himself staring. “What about the gnoll?”

“Oh!” Fjord cleared his throat and finished handing him the plate. “Uh, you really, um...hit that thing hard with...say, those aren’t _recent_ , are they?”

Caduceus paused before submerging the dish in the water.

“Sorry?”

“The, uh, the scars. On your hands.” Fjord immediately felt like he was invading something private, and tried to backpedal. “I mean, is it something from today? I can try and heal you up, Cad, if that’s what you - ”

Caduceus let out a small chuckle.

“These?” He held up his dripping hands. The scars were so tiny, but very much present, like all the tips of the fingers had been remade with new skin.

“Yeah, yeah, those.”

Caduceus beamed at him.

“I’m surprised it took you this long to notice.”

He dried his hands off and closed the distance between him and Fjord. He spread his hands palms up in front of him, allowing Fjord to get a closer look.

“This was no gnoll attack,” Caduceus reassured him. “I’ve had these for a very long time.”

“What happened?” Fjord asked before he could stop himself.

“What usually happens when children play with things they are not meant to play with.”

He gestured over to the tea kettle, which was bubbling with the evening drink Caduceus usually retired with.

“I was very young. My younger sister hadn’t even been born yet. And I wanted to impress my family by doing something I’d seen them all do.”

“Make tea,” Fjord surmised, as Caduceus walked over to the boiling kettle and carefully removed it from the heat. He nodded, still smiling.

“Well, back then I wasn’t nearly this tall. Or strong. So when the kettle was ready, I went to lift it up, and - ”

He mimed dropping the kettle, though he held onto the real thing with dextrous hands.

“Boiling water _everywhere_. And I, being a brilliant young child, thought it an excellent idea to try and salvage what was left of the pot.”

“Which...was sitting in boiling water,” Fjord concluded. Caduceus nodded as he gently poured himself a cup.

“I was never very smart,” he said with an air of amusement. Fjord found himself laughing softly too. Caduceus handed him a cup of his own, and they took a seat out in the dining room.

“So no freak gnoll attack, then,” Fjord said.

Smiling, Caduceus shook his head and took a sip of his tea.

“If you are interested, I have another one,” he said after a moment.

“Another scar?” Fjord asked, bizarrely finding himself deeply interested.

“Mmm. Here.”

Caduceus lifted his pants leg to roughly his knee and turned his leg towards Fjord, pointing at a spot underneath some of the fur. Sure enough, a sizable rivulet of smoothly raised tissue ran through his kneecap and down his shin.

“I suppose that didn’t happen in a fight either, did it?” Fjord said, cottoning on.

“Nope. I was a bit older. Calliope was around by then, and even though she could barely walk I made it my _mission_ to tease her mercilessly.”

He laughed whole-heartedly, and Fjord joined in. The tea was soothing, and it took away any nerves he might have had from before.

“So one day, I managed to string up a snare for her out by the Norton family plot. She wandered into it at the wrong time, and her little screams of anger woke up our parents, so I _ran_.”

He rubbed at his leg, smiling.

“Turns out Mr. Norton Senior paid a handsome fee for a sturdy and distinctly _sharp_ headstone.”

Fjord winced through a snort of laughter.

“Calliope was - ” Caduceus started laughing harder. “She was still _hanging_ there when Mom found me bleeding like crazy out onto poor man Norton’s grave.”

Fjord snickered at the image as Caduceus wiped a small tear from his eye and took a deep breath. He sipped his tea, grinning.

“Not all harm has to be sad,” he mused as Fjord’s laughter subsided. “I carry these with me to remind me of the good in those memories. The laughter that followed after the pain.”

“You’re certainly one for a good story,” Fjord said, finishing his tea. “And aren’t all scars supposed to have those?”

“I suppose that’s true.”

Fjord put the cup down and stood up.

“Thanks for the tea, Cad,” he said quietly, turning to head towards his room.

“Don’t I get a story in return?” Caduceus called over. Fjord turned.

“Sorry?”

Caduceus pointed to Fjord’s eye, and the scar ever-present there. Fjord smirked.

“Another day, Cad. When I’m a bit less drunk.”

He winked at his friend, before turning towards sleep. Behind him, he heard Caduceus sigh in contentment.

**v - Jester**

The first time Jester and Fjord spent a night together in the tower, there was significantly less sex than Jester anticipated. Which, she admitted, was vastly what should have been, even if it was a tad disappointing. It was hard to focus on carnal desires when the world was ending right outside their door. So instead they opted for much kissing and plenty of schnuggles. It was nice, being able to ignore everything, at least just for a night.

She liked kissing his face a lot. His beard added for an interesting texture, his tusks sharp and interesting, his grey hairs lovingly parted to make way for his smooth temple. He smiled into her kisses, held her hips _just_ right, and for a blessedly long time it was just them, holding each other, as a fire roared in the hearth nearby.

Her lips brushed his forehead, where his scar lay, partially covered by his hair but still prominent upon her touch. She retreated slightly, and he made a frankly adorable sound of protest as she drew backwards.

“How did you get it?” she asked.

Fjord navigated his way back into a sitting position, pulling his rumpled shirt haphazardly back into alignment.

“Get what?” he said dumbly. She pushed his shoulder playfully.

“Your _scar_ , stupid.”

“Oh.” His fingers ghosted the spot on his face that was marred by the thin line, though they were quick to return to caressing her shoulders. They made her warm, and she almost forgot about her question altogether in favor of lying down again and pulling him close.

“How do you think I got it?” Fjord proposed. Jester leaned forward into his touch.

“Hmm. You pissed off a gryphon.”

“No.”

“Ooh! An owlbear took a swipe at you!”

“You’re really set on it being an animal, aren’t you?”

“Well, I suppose it could be a dragon turtle.”

Fjord shuddered.

“I am glad it isn’t.”

Jester considered the scar.

“Well, you could have gotten it in a fight.”

“Getting warmer.”

“How long have you had it?”

“A while.” He smiled at her frustration at how vague the answer was.

“A childhood scuffle then.”

“I was never very popular.”

“Oh, just tell me!” Jester growled, pouting at him.

He closed the gap between them with a kiss and tugged her back into his embrace. She went more than willingly, melting underneath his fingers.

“Does it really matter?” he whispered into her ear.

“I want to know the story,” Jester argued. “I want to know how heroic you were.”

There was a pause, where the only sound she heard was Fjord’s heartbeat as her ear pressed against his chest.

“I...I don’t want to worry about things that happened in the past,” Fjord explained softly. “I was _so_ focused on _then_ for so long that I forgot about what matters.”

“And what matters?” Jester breathed.

“You,” he replied, running his fingers through her hair. “The Nein. Stopping the apocalypse.”

“But mostly me, right?” Jester smirked up at him. He returned her gaze with fondness in his eyes.

“I want a new beginning,” he admitted. “I’ve made a new life here, with the Nein, with _you_ , and all that matters right now is keeping you, and everyone else, safe.”

Jester considered him in all his noble glory. She liked that aspect of him. It made him twice as handsome.

“But you totally got it saving a helpless damsel from the clutches of evil, right?” she teased, snuggling her way further into his arms. “At least, that’s what happens in _Tusk Love_.”

He responded by kissing the top of her head, and she sighed as she settled into sleep.

**vi - Caleb ( & Essek)**

The thing was, Essek was never meant to get so close to harm.

The Nein were grateful to have him at their side, most certainly. When the chips were down, he fought brave and true, and when the dust settled and things had been dealt with, he hadn’t even been hurt that much. At least, not so far as for Caduceus to make a fuss about.

Then again, Caduceus never made a fuss over _anything_.

Which is why, later, when everyone was eating dinner and swapping stories, the immediate danger dealt with and the future certain and bright, nobody noticed Essek slip out of the dining hall.

No one, of course, except Caleb.

He found the drow perusing the library walls, running a finger along a line of books.

“Interesting in any particular selection?” Caleb asked, making him jump, if ever so slightly. Essek maintained most of his composure, which was a far cry from his initial exterior when the Nein had first met him. His mantle had long since been discarded in favor of simpler clothes, his heavy fur-lined winter cloak folded and hanging by the entrance to the tower. He looked...at home. Like he was always meant to be here.

“I apologize,” Essek said, turning away from the books. His feet still hovered an inch above the ground - some things had not changed, despite the Nein’s insistence he did not need to fly. “I did not mean to leave without excusing myself.”

Caleb smiled.

“I am sure if you had, Jester would have insisted upon feeding you two dozen more pastries.”

Essek returned the smile in kind.

“I don’t think I could have refused. They are most excellent.”

“I shall pass your compliments onto Zofia. She’s the resident pastry chef here.”

Essek tilted his head. “One of the cats?”

“ _Ja_. The best.”

The bemusement on Essek’s face lasted several seconds too short for Caleb’s liking.

“You are welcome to sleep, _mein freund_ ,” he reassured him.

“Oh, I am not tired,” Essek replied.

“Then why remove yourself from our company?”

Essek laughed, rather hollowly. Instead of responding, he whispered a word, and his feet drifted to the ground. He took a step forward, and his knee buckled underneath him. Caleb immediately stepped forward, ready to help, but the drow had already righted himself, pulling over a chair. He sighed as he settled into it and massaged his knee. Caleb took the opposite chair, concerned.

“Are you well, Essek?”

Essek stayed silent, merely pulling up his robe to reveal a recently treated wound across his calf. It was large, deep, and all too fresh. Caleb’s stomach churned as Essek replaced the robes and smiled up at him, though it looked too much like a grimace.

“Much to my chagrin, I am not, Caleb,” he finally said. “I had thought the pain would fade, but - ”

“Did Caduceus not - ”

“I firmly believed your firbolg friend was busy with much more important matters.”

Caleb shook his head.

“One of those matters is _you_ , Essek,” he pressed. “You are not worth much to us disabled and in pain, now are you?”

“Is that all I am to you, then?” Essek asked, and immediately Caleb wished to rescind his words. “In the end, I am simply a means to an end. I assisted you with your troubles, and I shall return to my own shortly enough. I am content with - ”

“ _Nein_ ,” Caleb hissed. “You cannot - I will not _let_ you - oh _schiesse_.”

He pressed his face into his hands in frustration. He wasn’t good at this part of the deal. Talking Essek down from a precipice, he excelled at. Reassuring him that the bottom was safe once he arrived was much, _much_ harder.

“ _Folgen_ ,” he ordered, standing and extending his hand. Essek peered at him curiously and Caleb attempted a smile. “I am no good at this alone, so please. Come.”

After much hesitation, Essek took his hand. Caleb led the floating drow back into the dining hall, where his friends were passing their empty plates to the cats and chatting idly amongst each other. They all looked up at the two of them as they entered.

“Oh hi, Essek!” Jester exclaimed. She was halfway out of her seat, her sketchbook pressed out in front of Veth as they both giggled over a freshly drawn dick. Caleb took a breath and squeezed Essek’s hand.

“Jester, could you come here for a minute?” he requested.

“Sure, sure!” Jester detangled herself from Veth’s grabbing hands by handing the halfing a paintbrush and dodging out of the way before she could use it on _her_. She scurried her way over to Caleb and beamed at both of them.

“What’s up, Essek? You left a little early, we thought maybe there was something wrong.”

“There...is, actually,” Essek said in a minutely quiet voice. He looked to Caleb, who nodded.

“Essek is still recovering from an injury from earlier today and I had hoped that you could - ”

“Oh, _Essek!_ ” Jester exclaimed, loudly enough for all the rest of the Nein to hear. They all turned their heads to watch Jester as she put both hands on either of Essek’s shoulders. “You should have _told_ us you were hurt, I would have healed you in a - ”

“Hey, Essek’s hurt?”

“Essek, you didn’t tell us - ”

“I did not realize my healing hadn’t - ”

“I didn’t even know you had gotten _hit -_ ”

Essek was turning distinctly more purple the more the voices crescendoed in the wide hall. Almost unbidden, he held Caleb’s hand tighter.

“ _Beruhigen,_ all of you, _please_ ,” Caleb pleaded. “Let the man breathe.”

Essek looked gratefully over to him as he watched the Nein congregate around him, concerned faces all around. They slowed up upon Caleb’s bidding, Jester still at the front.

“Where does it hurt, Essek?” she asked.

He ducked his head in embarrassment, but obediently took a seat and showed her the injury. She winced as she brushed her hand over it.

“I can’t promise it won’t leave a _scar_ ,” she murmured. “But I can take the pain away for _sure_.”

“I will manage with just a scar,” Essek replied, a small tinge of fondness in his voice.

The healing finished, and true to Jester’s word there was a large scar running along Essek’s leg. Caleb saw the drow smile at the sight of it.

“I never thought I’d live to see myself hurt in such a manner,” he mused. “Yet here we are. Thank you, Jester.”

“You’re welcome! You _know_ , you should always let us know if you’re hurt!”

“Yeah, Essek, we don’t want you in pain from something we can fix,” Fjord added.

“I...I would not wish to _disrupt_ you - ”

“Disrupt us from what?” Veth snapped. “You’re family!”

“And we take care of family,” Caleb said quietly. His hand had not left Essek’s the entire time. It was a nice feeling.

Essek looked around at all of them, bewildered, yet calmed.

"I thank you, Mighty Nein," he said softly. "I...I am glad you consider me so...close."

He obviously didn't know how to voice these things properly, and Caleb didn't blame him. Instead, he contented himself with the image of Essek getting up and putting weight on a newly healed leg, and smiling at his newly found family.

He remembered himself, once, finding his way amongst his friends for the first time.

He was glad to be here to help the second time around.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm all-made-of-stardust on Tumblr  
> keep a look out - i'm planning something BIG for my next fic (hint: it's Shadowgast)


End file.
